Nature's Wonder
by Petalouda85
Summary: A means for me to practice writing one-shots. This particular collection is for an OTP of my own creation which I call "Nature's Wonder". It is the couple between Young!North and my OC Paro. The rating can vary per one-shot. If you have any ideas or suggestion, let me know :)
1. Kal Ho Naa Ho

**This is just a little something for me to practice writing one-shots and what better way to get the ball rolling then by writing an absolute sob story.**

**I'll explain my OC quickly and also why I call this ship Nature's Wonder. My OC's name is Paro and she is the "daughter" of Seraphina (in the Modern AU's, Paro was adopted by Seraphina along with some other girls). Besides that fact, all that you really need to know about Paro is that she is from Indian. Her personality and looks will be established as I continue writing these one-shots.**

**I called the ship Nature's Wonder because in the very first fanfiction in which Paro appeared (which was also my very first fiction ever), she is the Guardian of Nature and later she becomes Mother Nature. And seeing that North is the Guardian of Wonder, Nature's Wonder kinda made sense to me.**

**Anyhow, to the one-shot. This was partly based off of a Bollywood movie called **_**Kal Ho Naa Ho **_**(There May or May Not Be a Tomorrow)****, hence the title for this one-shot. Enjoy!**

**Prompt: Imagine Person A of your OTP dies, leaving Person B to care for their only child alone. When the child is old enough to ask about their other parent, Person B attempts to push past their grief and tell their child stories about how wonderful their other parent was, how much they loved them, and how they sadly died, as well as show their child any photos and/or videos of them. Their child is sad but understanding, and Person B tries not to cry, knowing that Person A would've wanted their child to know about them like this.**

The continuous beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound that was heard in the quiet room. It was starting to annoy Nicholas St. North but he couldn't bring himself to complain; he was too worried about his wife. He held tight to Paro's hand as she peacefully slept on her hospital bed, her chest going up and down shallowly. North nearly cried at her almost too peaceful state because he knew she was so close to death. He bowed his head and pulled on his hair.

It wasn't fair. She had had it her entire life. Why did it have to strike now? The doctors had told her over and over that she would be fine, that the medication was enough. They said the chances of it killing her were slim. Now, they were saying the chances of finding a donor and a match were slim and her chances of survival even more so. A tear rolled out of his eye as she opened hers,

"Hey." She whispered quietly, her and folding a little tighter around his. He placed his free hand over their clasped ones,

"Hey. How are you feeling?" He asked, feeling very silly for even asking such a question. Paro chuckled lightly,

"I'm fine." She said, smiling at her husband's embarrassment. She stopped smiling suddenly, "Any news yet?" She asked. North solemnly shook his head,

"Not yet but they will soon." He tried to reassure her. He knew that the chances were small but he wasn't about to lose hope. Paro looked at him, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"Nicholas, be honest." She cried, "They said that the chances were small." She cried louder, the tears coming out of her eyes by the dozen, "I'm not gonna make it." North started crying uncontrollably. He shuffled closer to her and laid a hand on her cheek, wiping away the tears.

"No, Paro. You're going to make it. You have to." He said through his tears, "Sera needs her mother. And I need my wife." Paro's gleamed in her eyes as she wrapped her fingers around the hand on her cheek and pressed a kiss into the palm,

"I'll try." She whispered, "Will you tell Sera that I love her?" North nodded as he wiped away his tears with the sleeve of his shirt,

"I will."

Within the week, a wife and a mother were lost.

The funeral was simply a blur for North. All the speeches and procedures flashed by quickly with little comprehension of what was said or what happened. The single grasp of reality was the little girl he held the entire time, dressed in a sparkly black dress with a white headband decorated with a white flower.

Sera was silent through the whole procession, staring with her young eyes as the new event unfolded in front of her. She may not have understood what was happening but deep down, she knew something was wrong because her father wasn't the cheerful man she knew. He wasn't the man that would tickle her or throw her into the air. He wasn't the man that brought her his handmade toys. He wasn't the man who sneaked her chocolate chip cookies. He just wasn't her dad.

While Sera stared silently, North tried with all his might to not cry. He knew there was no shame in it but he did it for Sera's sake. He had to be strong for her.

Long after the ceremony was done, North stood silently in the cemetery, staring at the grim slab of stone that bore the name of his wife. He only looked away at the quiet sound of Sera sucking her thumb. The child had her head on his shoulder and her eyes were drooping.

"Mama…" She mumbled tiredly. North looked down at her sadly and kissed her forehead with a tear,

"Mama's not coming home." He whispered as she closed her eyes. He stared at her for a while as she slept, finding peace and calm and a means to move on. He looked back at the slab, realizing that Paro would've wanted him to move on and not crumble. With one last tear, he said,

"Goodbye, _moya lyubov_'" He took one last look and walked out of the cemetery.

It would be 16 years before North would have to recollect the memories of his wife.

In that time, Sera had grown into a beautiful woman, North could see so much of her mother in her. She looked almost exactly like her. Same hair, same skin, same large eyes and the same skinny build. The only things she inherited from North were his blue eyes and his fun an boisterous personality, damped slightly by her sense of responsibility and hard work. North loved her just as much as he had- still loved Paro.

It was a sunny day when North spoke of his wife. Father and daughter came laughing into the home after returning from an amusement park in the large mall. Sera ran into the home, kicked off her red shoes, and ran into the living room to plummet herself onto the couch, still laughing uncontrollably.

North entered the room much slower and watched his daughter for a while, sad that he would have to leave her again. He was being deployed again for a year and today was his last day. Pushing the thought to the back of his head, he sat down beside his daughter. When her bouts of laughter ended, North placed a hand on her knee and asked what else she wanted to do. Sera sat up and nervously tucked her hair behind her ear.

"I…" She started nervously, "I, uh… I want to talk about mom." There was a moment of silence as Sera cringed at the sight of her dad's expression going from elated to gloomy. He sighed and patted her knee,

"Wait here." He said. He got up and disappeared out of the room, his footsteps heading down the hall to his room. Only a few minutes later, he came back carrying a plain medium sized box. He placed it on the coffee table as he sat down. He looked at Sera, "Open it." With her hands shaking, Sera opened it.

Inside were many items from pictures to DVDs to other small boxes. She looked through some of the pictures, admiring the love between her parents and all the things they had seen and done together. She looked back into the box and found a little box covered with velvet. She opened it and gasped quietly when she saw a beautiful sliver ring decorated with a snowflake. North smiled at the sight of it,

"It's the ring I gave your mom when I asked her to marry me." North explained as Sera continued to stare at it, "Your mother had very low self-esteem growing up. She even said to me that she was plain and ordinary. So, I gave her this because every snowflake is beautiful and unique, just like she was." Sera looked at North, smiling at the fact of how cheesy it sounded. She closed the velvet box and looked through the other contents. She took out pictures of what appeared to be of her parents' wedding. The very first one was of her parents standing under an arch, staring at each other lovingly with her mom's arms around her dad's neck. Sera thought they looked very cute together and suddenly felt very sad that she never got to know her mom. She looked at the dress. It was a strapless mermaid dress with a straight neckline and a decorated bodice. The dress was red instead of the traditional white.

"Why was her dress red?" She asked, pointing to the picture. North chuckled lightly and took it from her,

"Your mother was from India and a follower of the Hindu faith. In that culture and religion, the brides wear red and decorate their hands with henna." He pointed to the Paro's hand, "See?" Sera looked closer and managed to spot the extravagant decoration on her hand. While she stared, North pulled a small statue from the box, "This was her deity, Vishnu." Sera put down the picture and took the little ornament. She found it silly-looking as a man with blue skin and four arms. She put the statue on the table and wrung her hands,

"How did mom die?" She asked in a little voice.

North sighed and proceeded to tell her how her mother died. Paro had dilated cardiomyopathy, a heart disease where the heart is enlarged and weakened and unable to pump blood properly. She had had it her entire life but it never bothered her until she was 18. She went on a diet of medication and drastically changed her livelihood in hope it would slow the progression of the disease, which, luckily, it did. The doctors told her that she would be fine, that the medication and the healthier lifestyle would be enough to stop the disease from killing her. For eight years, that was true.

That same year, Paro met North in her college. She was studying law while North was only there exploring the building while a friend was in class. They ran into each other while turning a corner and North spilled coffee all over her. She was very upset at him of course but found it very sweet when he offered her his jacket to cover the stain. It wasn't long before North asked her out.

Every one of their friends thought they were perfect for each other. The only one that wasn't as ecstatic about North was Paro's adoptive mother, Seraphina. She didn't trust North and deeply believed that he would only hurt Paro, as other men had done in the past. Paro, however, was relentless and tried with all her might to convince her mother otherwise. It took two years before Seraphina reluctantly accepted her daughter's relationship. The moment he had Seraphina's acceptance, North got down on one knee and proposed to Paro.

They watched a recording of the wedding. Sera was completely entranced as she watched her mother smiling and beaming in her beautiful red gown. She laughed loudly when her mother smeared cake all over North's face later during the reception and watched as he gave Paro the same treatment. When the video ended, North continued the story.

After three years of marriage, Paro became pregnant. They were both excited for this new phase in life. They moved into a larger home, sorted out all their financial problems and ensured that their child would have a perfect life. 9 months later, Sera was born.

They felt as though their life couldn't be any happier or perfect. They had each other, a beautiful daughter, and a future full of light and promise. North and Paro felt that they could have a happy life and live together until they were old and gray.

But when Sera was one, Paro suffered from sudden cardiac arrest while she was at work. She was rushed to hospital and, after many examinations that lasted a period of days, they told the couple the horrible news that the medication wasn't helping Paro anymore and she had to get a heart transplant.

North recollected how helpless and hopeless he felt when the doctor told him privately that the chances of finding a donor were slim.

Paro died two weeks later from heart failure. That was the beginning of another struggle. After her daughter's death, Seraphina returned to her hatred of North and tried to gain custody of Sera, claiming that North was incapable of caring for her properly. The fight got so bad that they went to court to settle the issue. North eventually won the case and Paro's family cut off all ties with him. The only one North was still in contact with was Fleur, Paro's elder sister.

Sera sat silently as her dad finished the tale, her mouth open slightly,

"Grandma tried to take me away from you?"

"Yes." Sera bit her lip nervously, taking in the news of a person she loved dearly. Out of impulse and love, Sera hugged her dad.

"Thanks for telling me about mom." She whispered into his shoulder. North smiled and hugged her back,

"You're welcome."

They spent the rest of the evening talking about Paro, North answering the many questions Sera had as well as sharing his favorite memories.

The next morning at the airport, they painfully said goodbye with a promise that they would frequently write to each other. Each month they were gifted with letter, each one filled with more love but in the 7th month, Sera was given something else.

In the 7th month, Sera was given the flag of the United States of America.

**That was it, folks. I hope you enjoyed it.**

**For those of you that don't know the meaning of the final sentence: the flag of America is handed down to the next of kin of a soldier that died while deployed.**

**Please leave a review because I want to know what you guys thought of it.**

**Onto the next one-shot.**


	2. A Nice Surprise

**Another one-shot. This is something that's out of my league (somewhat). I'm not usually one to write stories that have no sense of tragedy to them and for me, a sense of tragedy is someone dying or just losing something you love. Anyway, I tried my best with this. Also, this one-shot has nothing to do with the previous one. Enjoy**

**Prompt: Imagine your OTP recently got married. About 6 or 8 months in, Person A becomes pregnant, though it isn't planned. She's terrified of telling Person B, for fear that he'll be angry or upset. Instead of being angry, though, Person B bursts into happy tears and hugs Person A, surprising her**

Paro nervously placed the test on the bathroom counter and sat down on the closed toilet seat. She wrung her hands nervously as a thousand thoughts and questions went through her mind.

What if the test was positive? What would Nicholas, her husband, think? Would he be happy? Angry? Upset?

Paro sighed, running a hand through her long black hair. Of course he'd be upset. In the 8 months they had been married, not once had they had a serious talk about children. He'd never indicated that he wanted children, so she never pushed the question.

After several more minutes of worrying, Paro stood up and grabbed the test. She nearly dropped the small, plastic object at the sight of the two lines.

* * *

Nicholas St. North let out an exhausted sigh as he started the trek up the stairs towards the apartment on the fourth floor. The only elevator in the building had been broken for a while, not that he minded. He normally liked the exercise but not today. He slumped up the stairs, his feet dragging. He had had a long day that started with barely any sleep. Then Paro had woken up sick. After making sure she was excused from work that afternoon and that she'd be fine on her own, North had gone to his meeting with the recruiter for the US Army, the reason for his lack of sleep. The recruiter, a man as tall and buff as North himself, had seemed a little jumpy when he discovered North was an immigrant from Russia. After that surprise, however, it had all gone good; the recruiter had seemed very interested in North.

Coming to the door of the apartment, North jumbled with his keys, finally finding the right one next the symbol of the Hindu faith (a present from Paro). North sighed again. He knew that Paro didn't like his career choice. She bluntly told him that she hated it. She hated every aspect of it. The fighting, the going away for a long time, the possibility of never coming back. They had many fights about it. In the end, though, she dropped the issue, stating it was his decision, not hers; North knew she still didn't like it.

North turned the key, the lock clicking quietly, and entered the apartment, expecting the familiar smell of spices. Instead, he smelled buttery popcorn. Putting his keys, coat, and bag in their usual spot, he walked into the small kitchen and saw Paro, dressed in sweat pants, fuzzy socks, and one of his shirts, standing in front of the microwave, sipping on a bottle of Pepsi.

"Hello, _priya_." Paro said brightly, putting down the bottle and running to North to peck him. North nearly laughed at her enthusiasm,

"Somebody's in a good mood." He chuckled as Paro retrieved her Pepsi, taking another sip and smiling. It seemed forced. North pushed the thought away from his mind and grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator. He took a drink, the cold water feeling refreshing.

"How'd it go?" Paro asked as she retrieved a large bowl from the cupboard. As briefly as he could, North explained his encounter with the recruiter, trying to fit in all the details. Just as he finished speaking, the microwave beeped and the popping inside lessened. Paro hissed as she took the hot bag out and emptied its contents into the bowl.

"What's with the popcorn?" He asked. Paro stared at him as if he was crazy and dumb.

"It's Friday." She replied. North stared at her for a moment until her words finally made sense. He wanted to slap himself,

"How could I forget?" He muttered. Friday night was movie night. Paro giggled lightly and kissed him quickly before going to the living room and plumping down onto the large red couch, placing the popcorn on the small coffee table. With a smile, he joined her.

They spent the next two hours laughing at Monty Python's Flying Circus, stopping only when the doorbell rang for a pizza delivery. A meatlover for North and a vegetarian for Paro.

Into the third hour, North noticed that Paro started picking at her shirt, paying more attention to the fabric than the movie.

"You okay?" North asked, the arm around her shoulder pulling her a little closer. Paro looked at him and nodded,

"Yeah, I'm fine." She replied, a slight shake in her voice. She returned her gaze to the screen, biting her lip nervously. North, doubtful, turned his gaze back too. But barely a minute had passed when Paro sat up, out of North's embrace, and paused the movie, "I, uh... I actually have to tell you something." She said, nervously putting her hair behind her ear. North sat up too, placing his hand over hers, worry evident on his face.

Paro looked at him and immediately felt all the courage she'd been building up disappear. She bit her lip and looked down at the hand holding hers. Slowly she pulled her hand away and hugged herself, staring at the floor. In a whisper that was just loud enough for North to hear, she said,

"I'm pregnant." Paro hugged herself tighter, waiting for some outburst of anger. She nearly flinched when she felt a hand on her shoulder, turning her around. She looked at him and was surprised to see him not angry but crying with a big smile. Before she could say anything, he hugged her. Very slowly, she put her arms around him, burying her face into his shoulder,

"Are you mad at me?" Paro asked in a small voice. North pulled away and cupped her face, tears gleaming on his dumbstruck face,

"Mad? Why would I be mad?" North chuckled and Paro joined, the tears forming in her eyes. With a bright smile, she threw her arms around her husband's neck, finally feeling at ease.

**If you have time, please drop a review. I'd greatly appreciate it. **

**Later gator! **


	3. Miracles

**Another one-shot I wrote for a teacher (my English teacher). For that reason, the characters might be a little OOC. I didn't follow the prompt to the letter but it still holds to it.**

**Prompt: Imagine Person A of your OTP as a mute-by-choice, and hasn't spoken for years due to some even in their past. Person B is determined to hear their voice for the first time, and tries everything they can think of, including yelling, to try to get them to speak. One day, Person B is in an accident and falls into a coma. For weeks/months/years, Person A visits. The doctors say it's hopeless and Person B will never regain consciousness. Person A, determined not to lose their love, practices speaking until they feel they've gotten it right, and goes to Person B in hopes that they'll finally give Person B what they needed to wake up again.**

The quiet and continuous beeping of the heart monitor was all that was heard in the room. Most people would've gotten annoyed and complain loudly to a nurse to make the machine silent but Paro couldn't find it in herself to complain. She stared intently at the comatose figure of her fiancee as she held a tight grip on his hand.

The doctors told her that he would be able to hear her if she talked to him but she knew that was impossible. Not because he wouldn't hear her but because Paro couldn't talk. She hadn't said a word since she was 5 years old. It was all she had known in the world of speaking. The silence of her tongue. But, a long time ago, it hadn't been silent. A long time ago, the words and sounds rolled off her tongue and out her mouth with ease. Her voice was her treasure, her first stuffed toy. She loved it but others did too. Especially the lord of her slum in New Delhi. He wanted to take the little bird and keep it for himself so that he was the only one to hear it's pretty song.

Though Paro's mother could never guess his true intentions, she knew they were less than honorable and could only equate to the actions of the lowest scum of the earth. A bird should be free to spread its wings, not to have them crammed by the confines of a cage. She wouldn't risk having this fate be her daughter's so, one night, she sat her daughter down beside her.

"Trust me as you as trust Krishna." Her mother said, "Silence your voice and let your hands be your words." Obedient child that she was, Paro never let her voice be heard again. But it was not enough to keep the prowling eyes of the lord off of her. He may have lost a coin but there was still a treasure to be taken.

Though Paro had silenced her gift from Saraswati, the gift graced upon her by Lakshmi was harder to conceal. She may have been a child but she already outshined the fairest of women. Such a little siren could not go unnoticed.

After a tumultuous period that last several weeks, her mother spent every last rupee to buy a ticket that could fly her daughter to the US. Upon arrival in the new country, Paro was taken in by Seraphina Pitchiner, a woman who already had two other adopted daughters.

The eldest was a 10 year old named Tajeddigt and the other was an 8 year old named Fleur.

The hyperactive Fleur took an instant liking of the Indian girl while the stoic Tajeddigt took a little longer to warm up to her. But as time passed, the three girls became closer and close and near inseparable. They became each other's protectors, something Paro would need in the future.

Refusing to speak, Paro was easily at the center of being teased and ridiculed at school. Without the ability to speak up for herself, Paro was the vocal punching bag for obnoxious boys and snobby girls, especially in Junior High. In 9th grade and none of her sisters around to help her, the other students could do whatever they wanted to the girl. Having lived in the harsh world of the slums, Paro was used to most of the insults they threw at her but she could never hold her tears whenever they claimed that she was a terrorist or that she was better off in a brothel.

When the brothel comments became worse, Paro finally told Seraphina what was happening. After furiously ranting to the principle over the phone, she had a solemn but comforting talk with Paro in which she encouraged the girl to share with the school why she couldn't talk.

With the help of an interpreter, Paro told her story and the abuse stopped.

Life for Paro was peaceful after that. She graduated high school and enrolled into the city's best university in order to study law. That's where she met Nicholas St. North, a Russian student studying political science. He was the guy every girl dreamt of meeting. Tall, strong, buff, handsome, a deep voice with a beautiful accent. He was intelligent, comical, and very athletic. However, when Paro first saw him, he was anything but a dream. A coffee stained shirt and a fond memory is all that is left of that meeting.

They quickly became friends after that untimely meeting although it didn't take long for their relationship to grow beyond the boundaries of friendship and turn into something more. They dated for about two years until North went on one knee and proposed. Love struck that she was, Paro didn't hesitate to answer with a yes.

They decided to wait to get married until they both finished their studies. North was almost done with his bachelor in political science. One of the many things that had surprised Paro was that politics wasn't his true passion.

As much as he loved politics, he loved sports with equal passion. Boxing, wrestling, baseball, everything but the one sport he loved more than anything was skiing. The wind on his face, the snow flying around him, the adrenaline of sliding off a mountain; it was his favorite thing. At least once a year, he went to a skiing lodge and stayed there a weekend. Because she didn't ski, Paro joined him only a few times.

Nothing had ever gone terribly wrong while he skied. He's had a few injuries and many close encounters but nothing too serious. He had gotten a huge ego from this streak of luck and barely blinked an eye when he entered an avalanche zone.

That decision changed Paro's life. His luck ended. While going down the mountain, an avalanche started and he got trapped underneath the snow. The rescue team found him an hour later, just barely clinging to life

Now, he lay in the hospital on life support. Paro looked up as the door opened and the doctor appeared in it along with an interpreter. The doctor smiled at her,

"You're Parvati Bachchan?" He asked as he pulled out a clipboard and glanced at the paper. Paro frantically started signing, the interpreter having trouble figuring out what she was saying,

"Is he okay?" The interpreter translated. The doctor sighed and lowered the clipboard,

"That might be an understatement, Ms. Bachchan." He said slowly, "His injuries are extensive. His left femur is broken, along with his wrist and several of his ribs and he has severe cuts on majority of his left side of which most required stitches. Not to mention that he spent a lot of time under the snow." Paro blinked away a tear as she stared at her fiancee for a moment. She looked to the interpreter and started signing,

"When will he wake up?" She translated. The doctor fell silent. After about a minute he took a deep breath.

"Ms. Bachchan," he said taking off his glasses, "The lack of oxygen damaged his brain. He probably won't wake up."

It was like Paro was shot in her heart. It took seconds to comprehend and the pain was unbearable. Her hands shook violently as she shook her head in disbelief. Her eyes threatened to burst out tears like water bursting out of a breaking dam. She felt something coming up her throat. It was like a force, a vibration, traveling quickly through the cords she hadn't used in years. In one brief second, her life took another step of change.

"No!" Paro yelled, her voice scratchy and weak from years of not being used. She slammed her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide. A miracle had happened; she just talked. She had broken the last promise to her mother but, she didn't care. She wasn't even scared. She was fascinated by its foreign sound and just shocked.

But the shock of her voice was short-lived as she looked back at North. The chances of him never waking up were large. She would never see his beautiful eyes again, she would never hear his voice again. He had given her the beauty of his voice while she had only given him silence. She looked down at him and took hold of his hand. She kissed his hand with a promise. He would hear her voice.

Unable to pay for therapy, it took weeks for her to learn to use her voice again. In that time, North had shown signs of consciousness but the doctors remained doubtful. Paro, however, wasn't about to lose hope. She signed to them that North would wake up but that he needed the right motivation.

In the fifth month of North's coma, Paro had returned for her daily visit but this time she came with another purpose. Having been there so often, she had little difficulty finding her fiancée's room. He lay on his bed as peaceful as ever, many of the machines that had once surrounded him gone. She quietly closed the door and took her usual seat next to him. She sat there for a few minutes, stroking his hand, before she leaned closer to him and gave him a small peck on his lips.

"I… love… you." Paro whispered into his ear, the sounds still sloppy even after all the practice. She kissed him on the cheek and dropped back down in the chair to continue her silent vigil. Even though he didn't respond, Paro felt an odd sense of contentment.

Her daily ritual of visits continued for another three months. Each time, Paro whispered something to North, her voice becoming less sloppy every time. But still, North's condition barely changed.

Until one day, when Paro was working, she received a phone call from the hospital. The person on the phone only said three words.

_He's woken up._


End file.
